


Without You Is How I Disappear

by awesomecherry



Series: Awesomecherry's Awesome Stucky Pornathon [12]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky makes it better, Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Spanking, Steve makes bad decisions when he's left alone, Steve missed Bucky something fierce, Subspace, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:24:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5429615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomecherry/pseuds/awesomecherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky expects to find Steve waiting for him on the landing pad on the roof of the tower, because he knows someone would have thought to tell Steve he was coming home. He may have spent the whole flight dreaming about their reunion, imagining himself picking Steve up and slamming him against the nearest surface, their clothes magically falling off, swept away by a tide of passion, and then them scarring everyone in the tower by having sex right there and then. </p>
<p>What he gets is an empty apartment and the smell of rancid food flooding his nostrils.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without You Is How I Disappear

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be 3k of kinky porn in honor of the rude ass anon i got a few days ago. Instead, this is what happened. :) This is also on tumblr, as I am, feel free to come talk stucky with [me](http://captainbisexualcherry.tumblr.com/)

Two months into the longest solo mission Bucky’s taken since his official return to the world, Bucky begins to think he was better off staying dead.

 

He signed up for this, he knows that, agreed to serve the Earth in the same capacity as Steve, agreed to be called out with little to no notice, and for unspecified lengths of time. He thought it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. He and Steve spent close to a century apart, certainly they could handle a few months of separation. He was wrong.

 

It’s not just the separation that’s driving Bucky up the wall. It’s the fact he hasn’t even been able to call Steve in two months. Apparently when Nick Fury says ‘no contact mission’, he fucking means it. No phone calls, no morse code messages, not even a letter delivered by carrier pigeon (and Bucky would know, he tried it).

 

Bucky’s not too proud to admit, that the lack of contact leads him to hassling the support team he’s been saddled with. He may have started trying to scare them out of boredom, may have tried to steal their satellite phones and use one to have phone sex with Steve, may have become such a general nuisance that Nick Fury himself dropped by the remote cabin Bucky’s been forced to stay in and grant him a few days leave.

 

His exact words were, “Get your ass out of here Barnes, before I have to give in to the fifteen different inquires I have on my desk for reassignment.”  

 

Bucky salutes Nick mockingly and is out of the building and on his way back to Steve before Nick can find something else to complain to him about.

 

He expects to find Steve waiting for him on the landing pad on the roof of the tower, because he knows someone would have thought to tell Steve he was coming home. He may have spent the whole flight dreaming about their reunion, imagining himself picking Steve up and slamming him against the nearest surface, their clothes magically falling off, swept away by a tide of passion, and then them scarring everyone in the tower by having sex right there and then. Bucky chuckles to himself imagining the look on Stark’s face when he realizes just how many places Bucky and Steve have christened together.

 

That’s not what happens.

 

Instead, when Bucky disembarks the plane, there is no one waiting for him. He swallows down his disappointment and shrugs it off. Maybe no one had thought to tell Steve he was coming home. There are breakdowns in communication all the time after all.

 

He doesn’t run into anyone on his trip down to his apartment, something he’s thankful for, because now that he’s this close to seeing Steve, touching Steve, he doesn’t want to have to make small talk or pretend to care about anyone else. All he wants is Steve in front of him, smiling that stupid grin Bucky would be lying if he said he didn’t fall asleep thinking about every night, preferably within touching distance.

 

What he gets is an empty apartment and the smell of rancid food flooding his nostrils.

 

There’s a moment where Bucky wonders if he’s actually having some kind of nightmare, is really sound asleep back in that damned cabin, and he’s going to wake up in the morning with a vague feeling of wrongness and an urgent need to talk to Steve. But then the moment passes and Bucky is left with a growing sense of wrongness and an urgent need to talk to Steve.

 

There’s a thought, or a half-remembered memory tickling at the back of his brain as he walks through the apartment, seeing the extent of the mess. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, half-finished sketches strewn all over the living room floor, sweaty, stinky clothes piled just inside the front door like Steve came in from working out (more than once a day based on the amount of clothes) and stripped right in the hallway. It’s when he sees their collection of Vinyl’s, usually meticulously organized on the shelf next to the record player, scattered all over their dining room table, that the memory totally resurfaces.

 

Bucky had come to home a similar mess once before in his life. After he’d finally gotten drafted (he wasn’t leaving Steve for any amount of time of his own free will, no way, no how) and had come back from his too short training, he’d come home to their apartment in complete disarray. The trash was overflowing and stinking to high heaven, Steve’s sketches were crumpled balls all over their couch, and their own prized possession, a second hand radio had been in pieces on the floor. Bucky had assumed they’d been robbed, then realized there was nothing for anyone to steal, and eventually had gotten what had really happened out of Steve. And now it looks like history is repeating itself.

 

Bucky isn’t even mad about the mess, though he is vaguely disgusted, but he’s more worried about how bad off Steve must be to have let their home get into such a state.

  
  
  


Bucky peeks in their bedroom, just to be sure Steve isn’t curled in a ball on their bed, before backing out of their apartment, careful to leave everything exactly as Steve left it. The elevator doors open as soon as Bucky closes the apartment door, and Sam exits looking concerned and unhappy.

 

“Man, am I glad you’re back.” Sam waves, and the lack of trademark smile cements that whatever is happening with Steve, is serious. “Have you seen Steve?”

 

“Where is he?” Bucky asks instead. Obviously he hasn’t seen Steve. If he had, they would be locked in the nearest room or closet, naked, and re-familiarizing themselves with each other’s bodies.

 

“He’s in the gym. He’s basically been living in there since you left. I don’t think he’s even left it at all this past week, except for when Natasha dragged him up to the living room for movie night.” Sam blocks Bucky’s path when Bucky tries to head off, intent on getting to Steve as quickly as possible. “Look man, I know you want to see him, but I need you to know he’s not in good shape. I haven’t ever seen him this bad, not even when we were on the road looking for you. He’s barely eating, I haven’t seen him smile in over a month, and he’s been avoiding us all.”

 

“I’ll take care of it.” Bucky pats Sam on the shoulder, a little more harshly than he means to, but he’s in a hurry, then he shoves past Sam, and gets in the elevator before Sam can stop him. He thinks he hears Sam call out, “How?” but the doors shut before Bucky can even think of responding. Besides, Sam doesn’t really want or need to hear how Bucky plans on taking care of it. Sam has, on multiple occasions, made it very clear that he doesn’t want to know anything at all about his and Steve’s sex life.

 

When Bucky walks into the gym, Steve doesn’t even turn around, so focused on beating the shit out of a punching bag in the corner that he’s completely oblivious to the fact someone else has entered, or that the few people milling around rush to leave as Bucky walks closer and closer to Steve.

 

By the time Bucky is directly behind Steve’s heaving form, noticeably thinner than when Bucky left him, at least to someone who knows Steve’s body as well as Bucky does, sweat making his shirt cling to his back, sweatpants Bucky recognizes as his own, hanging off Steve’s tiny hips, he knows exactly what he needs to do. Bucky drinks it in. Even with all the other shit going on, his guy is still the best damn sight Bucky’s ever seen.

 

He takes a minute to get his bearings, settle in the right headspace. His poor guy needs him, needs to be reminded that Bucky loves him, will take care of him, won’t ever leave him. And Bucky is going to give his baby doll exactly what he needs, show him just how much Bucky loves him.

 

Bucky steps in front of the punching bag, directly in Steve’s line of sight. “Heya, Stevie.” Bucky murmurs, low and intimate, smiling at Steve crookedly. “Miss me?”

 

Steve is on him within seconds,  wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist, his arms over Bucky’s shoulders, face pressed into Bucky’s neck. Steve lets out a few short snuffling sounds, a punched out whine that sounds like he’s close to crying. He burrows as close to Bucky as possible, manages to choke out “Bucky!”, before lapsing into silence, just breathing Bucky in.

 

Bucky walks with his armful of supersoldier to the elevator, doesn’t say anything to Steve, but tries to reassure him wordlessly, lets Steve get adjusted to him being back, being here with him. He smoothes a hand down Steve’s back once they’re safe in the elevator, kisses the parts of Steve’s face and head that he can reach.

 

When the elevator doors open, Steve startles, jumping in Bucky’s arms and looking up at Bucky with a panicked expression. “Bucky, wait-” Steve says right before Bucky opens the door, but Bucky ignores him, swinging the door open wide as Steve squirms in his arms.

 

Bucky pretends to be shocked when he walks in the door, stopping dead in his tracks, and taking it all in. “What happened here, Steve?” He asks, voice firm, all business.

 

Steve flushes and hunches his shoulders, drops his head back into the crook of Bucky’s neck, curling even closer in his shame. “I-you weren’t-I didn’t-” He stammers.

 

“You haven’t been taking care of our home, Stevie.” Bucky cuts him off. “And worse than that, you haven’t been taking care of yourself, have you?” He pursues his lips and bodily sets Steve on his own two feet, away from Bucky’s body.

 

Steve sets his jaw mulishly, crossing his arms over his chest and avoiding Bucky’s reproachful gaze. He doesn’t answer.

 

“Go take a shower, clean yourself up while I clean up the mess you left.” Bucky doesn’t say it meanly, but he makes sure his voice is tinged with exasperation and exhaustion. He’ll never understand it, but Steve’s a good old catholic boy, and that means in order to feel better, he has to be punished for what he thinks he’s done wrong. In this case, he needs Bucky’s absolution. So Bucky has to play it like he’s mad. He has to give Steve orders, help guide Steve into the right headspace where he can take his punishment and feel better afterwards. This is how Steve needs to be taken care of.

 

Steve hesitates for the briefest moment, opens his mouth like he’s about to argue before Bucky glares at him, and he decides the safest course of action is to do as Bucky says. Bucky breathes a sigh of relief when he notices the line of Steve’s shoulders smooth a little when he turns and heads towards the bathroom. Just receiving an order has settled Steve a little bit.

 

Bucky glances around the apartment, making a mental to do list for what needs to be done as he hears the water start in the bathroom. He knows Steve will take his time, scrub himself down thoroughly, prolonging the time before Bucky doles out his punishment. Steve is a masochist at heart, Bucky is sure of it, because by the time Steve gets out of the shower he will have worked himself up fully with guilt.

 

Most of the mess can be put off until later, but he needs to do something about the clothes and dishes stinking up the apartment. Both of their laundry baskets are already overflowing, so he takes them both, and the pile of Steve’s sweaty gym clothes and dumps them in the hallway. Out of sight, out of mind. The rancid food gets tossed in the trash, which leaves their refrigerator worryingly empty. Bucky makes a mental note to have some food delivered later, Steve will need the nutrients. The dishes get washed and left on the drying racks, before Bucky takes a can of air freshener and sprays their entire apartment down.

 

A thunk from the shower tells Bucky he’s running out of time, so he changes the sweaty sheets on the bed, files away the fact that Steve has obviously been having nightmares again, and puts on clean sheets. He’s ready when Steve comes out of the shower, head down, not looking Bucky in the eye, naked as the day he was born, water dripping off of him like he hadn’t even attempted to dry off.

 

Bucky tsks, trying not let his eyes follow the water droplets running down Steve’s neck, over his collarbone, down between his perfect tits. He doesn’t want to get distracted. “Where’s your towel, Stevie? You’re dripping water all over our floor.” He sits on the edge of the bed and waits for Steve to come back with a towel, motions for him to come stand between his legs. “Lemme dry you off, baby. I don’t want you getting our fresh sheets all wet, Stevie, At least, not with water.”

 

Steve flushes, but keeps his eyes lowered, letting Bucky maneuver him however he wants, standing still and pliant as Bucky dries him off. It makes Bucky’s heart hurt. How long has Steve been this bad? And why on God’s green earth did no one think to call him sooner? Fuck the mission, his best guy will always come first. Bucky bites his lip to keep in a sigh, and hands Steve the towel. “Go hang it up.” He orders, gently.

 

While Steve complies, Bucky moves to the rarely used reading chair in the corner of their bedroom. Ostensibly, it’s the chair Steve sketches in, the one Bucky reads his shitty sci-fi novels in, and they do sometimes, but that’s definitely not the purpose they’d had in mind when they bought it. He settles in, finding the most comfortable spot, and beckons Steve towards him, when Steve freezes in the threshold. Bucky’s glad to see relief bloom on Steve’s face when he takes in where Bucky is sitting. He knows he’s about to get the absolution he seeks.

 

“Nu-uh,” Bucky stops Steve with a firm hand when Steve starts to drape himself over Bucky’s lap. “We gotta talk about what you’ve done wrong, first. You know that.”

 

Steve cringes. He hates having to recount his transgressions, especially right to Bucky’s face while Bucky’s looking at him with that disappointed face. He climbs into Bucky’s lap, straddling him, eyes lowered deferentially until Bucky gently knuckles his chin and says, “Look at me.”

 

“Tell me everything.” He orders, and the walls Steve’s tried so hard to build up while Bucky was away shatter, leaving him open and raw, full of guilt and shame, and the lingering sense of abandonment. He needs this, needs Bucky to know how bad he was, how poorly he took care of himself and their apartment. He needs Bucky to fix it, make it better, to never leave ever again.

 

“I didn’t do the dishes or the laundry,” Steve starts unsteadily. “I let the food in the fridge go bad, and I didn’t throw it away. I pushed away our friends.” He squeezes his eyes shut, guilt rolling through his stomach making him feel sick when he thinks of how worried and sad he made Sam look. “I over trained, and didn’t listen to my body about when to stop. I didn’t eat as much as I need to.” Tears build in his eyes, because he knows Bucky will be so disappointed in him. “I didn’t ask for help when I needed it.” He chokes out.

 

“That’s it? That’s everything?” Bucky asks, trying not to let the emotion show on his face. He hates when Steve cries. “You didn’t leave out anything?”

 

“That’s it.” Steve whispers, shame and guilt eating him up. “I promise.”

 

“I believe you.” He kisses Steve softly, just once, because he can’t stand how upset Steve is, before hardening his expression and saying, “Okay, Stevie, you and I both know you did a lot of shit that would not fly if I were around. You feel bad about it don’t you? Feel bad you didn’t treat our home, or yourself with respect while I was gone?” He waits until Steve has nodded before continuing.

 

“Yeah, I know you do. I’m gonna make it better, Stevie. I’m going to punish you, spank your naughty little ass until its bright red and hot to the touch. When I think that you’ve learned your lesson, that you’ve been punished enough, I’m going to spread you out on our bed, and fuck you until I come.” He watches Steve’s eyes dilate further, gaze gone glassy and longing. “When I’m done, you won’t think about what happened while I was away, because it’s in the past and you’ve been forgiven. Understood?”

 

Steve lets out a breathy little sigh when he nods, body loose and relaxed like Bucky’s lifted a huge weight off of his shoulders. “I understand.” He answers, his whole world narrowed down to the places Bucky is touching him, Bucky’s eyes locked with his, the coarseness of Bucky’s pants against the sensitive skin of his ass. “I understand.” He repeats, because he’s not sure he really said it out loud the first time.

 

“Good boy.” Bucky’s lips twitch in a ghost of a smile when those words send a visible shiver down Steve’s spine. “Let’s get this over with then.” Steve goes easily when Bucky guides him to his feet, and then face down across Bucky’s lap, hands flat on the ground by his head, legs kicked out behind him. Steve squirms a little, harsh fabric rubbing along super sensitive skin, but settles quickly. “You ready?”

 

Steve sucks in a shaky breath, and nods. “Yeah.” His voice rises at the end, unsure, but Bucky smoothes a hand down his back, and Steve takes another fortifying breath. This time, when he answers he sounds sure, ready for whatever Bucky dishes out. “I’m ready.”

 

Bucky takes him at his word, and starts raining down smacks. He starts off with a consistent tempo, letting the rhythm soothe Steve as he works Steve’s ass to a nice pink shade. Steve squirms, letting out little huffs of air, choked back cries and groans, but otherwise he takes it stoically. Bucky knows he thinks he deserves it. He also knows, he has to take it up several notches to get Steve out of his guilty headspace, to a place where he can accept that Bucky is taking care of it, of him, and that he just needs to take it.

 

He quickens his pace, hits a little bit harder on the sensitive spots, right on the curve, and doesn’t let Steve anticipate where the next spank will land. Pretty soon the sound of Steve’s whines and whimpers nearly drowns out the smack of Bucky’s hand meeting Steve’s firm flesh. Then the whining turns to begging, and that’s when Bucky has to harden his resolve.

 

Tears color Steve’s voice, throat obviously thick with emotion when he begs Bucky to believe him that he’ll be good, he won’t do it again. He never asks Bucky to stop, because he knows, scene or not, it would be really difficult for Bucky to refuse, and he needs this, needs the absolution that comes with punishment. He needs to be forgiven. “Bucky, I’m sorry.” He cries. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“I know you are.” Bucky can’t help but murmur, increasing the strength of his blows until his palm smarts with how hard he’s hitting Steve. He reminds himself over and over again, that Steve needs this, that if Steve needed him to stop, Steve only has to say one word and Bucky will. Steve’s so close to the place Bucky wants him to be, he just needs a little more to push him over the edge.

 

He spanks until Steve gives up crying and begging, and instead hangs limply over Bucky’s lap, whining lowly, damn near constantly, but accepting every smack Bucky gives. Bucky pauses, rubbing gently at the bright red skin. “Steve, look at me.” He orders, soothing a tiny bit of the ache with a gentle hand while he waits for Steve to comply.

 

Steve does, head turning sluggishly to stare up at Bucky with large, glassy, dilated eyes. He blinks slowly, and pants open-mouthed, face flushed nearly as red as his ass. He squirms slightly, dragging his hard cock over the rough material of Bucky’s pants. “Mmh?”

 

Bucky represses a sharp grin. Perfect. “I want you to come before I’m finished spanking you. Can you do that for me?”

 

Steve nods eagerly, so eager to do as Bucky asks, cock twitching at the thought of doing exactly what Bucky wants him to do. He wants to be good for Bucky. “Yeah.” He tries to say, because he wants Bucky to know he’s listening, but the word is garbled on a moan when Bucky starts spanking him again.

 

Bucky doesn’t have to hit quite as hard now that Steve’s skin is sensitive, and more importantly, Steve’s so focused on obeying Bucky’s order, that the spanking is more background sensation as he rubs himself against Bucky’s jeans. Bucky’s own cock digs painfully into the zipper, and the added friction of Steve rubbing against it, is damn near torture. To hurry things along, Bucky spanks both cheeks, one at a time, and then spreads them apart, and lands one hard smack right over Steve’s hole.

 

Steve nearly bites his own tongue off as he vaults over the edge. The bright spot of unexpected pain on such a sensitive area sends white hot waves of pleasure down his spine, right to his cock, and he spurts all over Bucky’s jeans. “Bucky!”

 

Bucky doesn’t even let Steve finish, before he’s manhandling Steve off of his lap, and onto the bed. He kicks Steve’s legs apart, unzips his jeans, pulling his cock free with one hand, while his other hand scrambles across the sheets searching for the lube he threw on the bed earlier. “Good boy, Stevie. So good for me, baby doll. Did just like I asked. And now I’m gonna give you what I promised earlier. Gonna fuck you until I come.” His hand closes around the lube as he talks. He slicks himself up, and spears two perfunctory fingers in Steve’s hole to punctuate his statement.

 

The low moan Steve lets out drives Bucky crazy. He grips the back of Steve’s neck with his free hand, keeping him pinned, keeping him grounded, as his fingers twist inside Steve’s hole. Just like he expected, Steve’s already loose. The mental image of Steve working himself open in the shower, fingering himself in anticipation of this, of Bucky taking him, makes Bucky’s brain short out for a second.

 

He has to take a deep breath to get control of himself. He steadies himself, grips the base of his cock tightly to center himself. It’s difficult with Steve squirming under him, making little noises that go straight to Bucky’s dick, to think clearly, but Steve trusts him to do this, to be this vulnerable, and Bucky’s damn well not going to take advantage of it.

 

He pulls his fingers free and slides his cock inside Steve, with one long thrust. He buries himself completely and grinds down , dragging the head of his cock directly over Steve’s prostate, Steve’s hot, cherry red ass pressed tight against his hips. “Missed you so much, Stevie. Missed seeing your gorgeous face, waking up to your beautiful blue eyes, perfect fucking smile.” Bucky rolls his hips, draping himself over Steve’s back to bite at his neck, digs his teeth into the meat of Steve’s shoulder.

 

“Couldn’t fucking stand being away from you baby doll. Every day I’d wake up missing you. A second didn’t go by that I wasn’t thinking about you, wonderin’ how you were doing, if you were missin’ me just as much.” Bucky kisses Steve’s sweaty temple, the side of his face, the corner of his jaw. “Longest couple of months of my fucking life, Stevie. Knowing you were here, and I was out there, away from you.”

 

Steve whines and arches his back, rolling his hips back to meet Bucky’s thrusts clumsily. “Bucky, missed you.” He slurs back, words thick and slow as molasses. “Missed you so much.”

 

“Oh baby, I know you did. Missed me so much you forgot to take care of yourself.” Bucky groans, rolling his hips faster, thrusting harder. “But you don’t have to worry about that now. I’m here to take care of you.” He pulls almost all the way out, teases Steve with just the head of his dick, before thrusting back in. He leans forward to mouth at Steve’s ear. “You know what else I thought about while I was away, baby? When I wasn’t missing your pretty face, I was wrapping my hand around my dick, thinking about your lips being wrapped around it. Couldn’t stop dreaming about your fucking mouth, and your tight, greedy hole. Wanted to bury myself in your throat, stuff myself so far in your ass you’d taste my come in your throat.”

 

Steve starts making the high breathy noises that mean he’s close to coming, fucking himself on Bucky’s dick as best he can, soaking in Bucky’s words. “Bucky, please.” He begs.

 

“I told you I was going to fuck you until I came. Did I say anything about you coming? No. You don’t come until I tell you to. I was nice enough to let you come all over my lap earlier, now it’s my turn.” He wants Steve to come, wants to feel Steve’s hole clenching tight around his cock, milking him for all he’s worth, but that’s not what Steve needs, even if it’s what Steve wants.

 

Steve needs to be reminded that he belongs to Bucky. His pain, pleasure, everything is given to him by Bucky. This isn’t about Steve’s pleasure, it’s not even about Bucky’s pleasure, it’s about claiming Steve, making him feel owned. Steve is there to serve Bucky, for Bucky to use. It’s what makes Steve feel safe and loved, knowing he’s completely Bucky’s. Bucky’s damn well going to give it to him.

 

Bucky fucks Steve hard and fast, hips slamming into Steve’s sore ass with every thrust, making Steve groan. It’s too much for Bucky after so long without it, he can’t take the tight heat of Steve’s hole for long. He thrusts once, twice, three more times before he’s coming, fingers digging into Steve’s neck and hip, leaving behind little finger print bruises. He pulls out to come on Steve’s ass, marking him inside and out, biting down so hard on his lip he tastes blood.

 

When he’s caught his breath and his dick has stopped twitching in his hand, he sits back on his heels, and rubs the come into the Steve’s ass, already fading from deep red to a light pink. “Do you think you deserve to come, baby doll?” He asks casually, slipping two fingers back in Steve’s hole, and brushing them over his prostate.

 

Steve whines and shakes his head, hips jerking minutely like he’s trying his hardest to keep from rutting against the sheets, back onto Bucky’s hand. “Nooooooo,” Steve groans, face buried in the pillows, “I don’t deserve it.”

 

Bucky smacks Steve hard on one ass cheek, and then the other. “Do you get to decide what you deserve, Stevie?” He doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, landing two more quick smacks. “I decide what you deserve, not you. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, Bucky.”

 

“I’ve already punished you, haven’t I? So you’re not in trouble, I’m not mad at you, or disappointed with you.” Steve moans, like Bucky saying that is as good as any orgasm. “You deserve to come, baby doll. Rut against the sheets until you do.” He orders.

 

Steve obeys with reckless abandon, taking Bucky’s fingers as deep as they will go, and dragging his hard, leaking cock against the wet sheets, until it becomes too much and he spills all over them, screaming into his pillow, Bucky’s fingers working him through it.

 

Bucky keeps his fingers moving inside Steve as he leans over and digs through the top drawer of their bedside table until he finds what he’s looking for. The plug is nicely sized, too big for wear out and about, but smaller than Bucky’s dick, and with several different vibration settings. He slips his fingers free, and pushes the plug into Steve’s still twitching hole, and setting the vibration on low.

 

Steve yelps, hips jerking forward, trying to get away from the overstimulation.

 

“You’re okay, Stevie. You can take it.” He soothes Steve, running gentle fingers over Steve’s hip. Sometimes Steve comes out of subspace too quickly when they’re taking a break from playing, his mind reasserting itself, meaning Bucky have to start the whole process all over again. Constant stimulation is the key to keeping Steve down. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Hurts so good?”

 

Steve nods jerkily, whimpering as he blinks glazed eyes up at Bucky. “S’good.”

 

“That’s right. I know what you need, how much you can take. I always make it good for you baby doll, want you to feel as good as possible.” Bucky grins at the dopey smile Steve gives him, cheeks wet with tears, but still wanting more. “How you feeling, baby?”

 

“Good. S’good.” Steve curls closer to Bucky, wrapping his limbs around Bucky tightly. “Thank you.”

 

“I wish you wouldn’t have let it get this bad, Stevie.” Bucky says gently, running a hand through Steve’s hair.

 

Steve flinches, breath catching in his throat. Steve’s brain is slow to make sense of the words, but when he does, he buries his face in Bucky’s neck, hiding from his shame at having disappointed Bucky. “I’m sorry.” He whispers pitifully, mournfully. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You’re okay, baby doll. I’m not mad at you.” Bucky changes tactics, he’ll save the serious conversation for when Steve isn’t floating in subspace. “You were so good for me. Took your punishment like a champ.”

 

Steve preens a little, smiling into Bucky’s collar bone, and squirming in Bucky’s lap. The low vibration, the fullness of the plug inside him, are keeping him aroused, but it feels distant, far away, like he’d be content to sit in Bucky’s arms forever until Bucky decided to do something about it.

 

“I’m gonna clean us up, okay Stevie. Then we’re going to eat, because I know you haven’t been doing enough of that lately.” He picks Steve up and carries him to the bathroom, where he sits on the edge of the bathtub, more of a Jacuzzi really, Steve in his lap, as he runs the water, waiting until it’s a pleasantly warm temperature before getting in.

 

It’s a tight fit, both of them in the tub, Steve cuddled up on Bucky’s chest. Steve isn’t as small as he used to be when they did this more frequently, but it’s worth the trouble to hear Steve sigh happily, smiling softly up at Bucky as Bucky washes him clean, murmuring praise and loving endearments all the while.  

 

It’s quiet, just the two of them existing together, and as much as Bucky loves fucking Steve’s brains out, he might love the quiet moments even more. It’s sappy as hell, but he loves spending time with his Steve in any capacity, but especially when he gets to take care of Steve without Steve even pretending to fuss.

 

They relax until the water goes cold, and then Bucky wraps a towel around his waist, drapes one over Steve’s shoulders, and moves them to the living room. Bucky grabs his phone on the way, takes a minute to thank the advancements in technology that allow him to text his food order, and settles on the couch with Steve in his lap.

 

“How you feeling, baby doll? Still feeling good?” Bucky brushes wet hair out of Steve’s eyes, watches Steve smile and nod fondly. He can’t help but tease Steve a little. Steve’s so sweet and pliable like this, blushes easy and often, begs so sweetly for anything Bucky’s offering. “That plug big enough for your greedy hole?”

 

Steve squirms, rolling his half hard cock against Bucky’s abs. Suddenly, the vibration is all he can think about, how full he is, how good it feels. He moans and ruts against Bucky’s stomach faster, swiveling his hips to get the plug right where he wants it. It slides smoothly inside him, brushing over his prostate, and sending delicious waves of pleasure up his spine. “Bucky, feels s’good. S’not enough, need more. Please!”

 

Steve spreads his knees on either side of Bucky’s thighs, rocking down onto Bucky’s cloth covered cock, wetness leaking out of him, and that makes his mind white out because the plug is keeping Bucky’s come inside of him. “Bucky, please.”

 

Bucky huffs a laugh, rubbing two fingers over Steve’s stretched rim, toying with the vibration button, notching it up another intensity level. “You’re spoiled.” He murmurs against Steve’s lips, before claiming them in a bruising kiss. “One more, baby doll, you can come one more time before we eat.”

 

He sucks a bruise on Steve’s neck, slides his fingers through the come that leaked out of Steve, and slips the plug out enough to push it back in. “Go ahead and fuck yourself on that plug baby, show me how much you love it inside you, filling you up, keeping you full of my come.” He fucks Steve with the plug, cock twitching under the towel when Steve writhes on his lap, whining and moaning, trying to take it faster, deeper.

 

“You like that baby? Like that my come is still inside you? Maybe I need to fuck you again, fill you up some more, and plug you back up, make you so full of my come you won’t even be able to move. Would you like that?” Bucky flips the intensity up one more level, the second highest setting possible. “Maybe I will after we eat.”

 

Steve’s head drops back against his shoulders, mouth open on a silent scream, breath caught in his throat as his body seizes up. He comes all over Bucky’s stomach, hips jerking helplessly back onto the plug pressed firmly against his prostate. “Bucky!” He groans as soon as he catches his breath, cock twitching painfully when the vibration doesn’t ease. “Bucky, please!”

 

He doesn’t know what he’s begging for. For it to stop, for it to go on forever, he doesn’t know what he wants, only knows he’d be okay with whatever Bucky decided to do. “Buck.” He raspes. “Love you, Bucky.”

 

“I love you too, Stevie.” Bucky takes pity on him and turns the vibration on low, dragging a hand gently down Steve’s trembling back. “Love you so much.” He kisses Steve softly, sweetly, then presses Steve’s head to his chest and runs his fingers through Steve’s sweaty hair, soothing him back down.

 

He has to shift Steve onto the couch when the doorbell rings. It breaks his heart to ignore Steve’s whine of protest when Bucky leaves him, but Steve needs food, and Bucky doesn’t want the poor, unlucky Stark Tech employee forced to deliver their massive order to see Steve in such a vulnerable state. “I’ll be right back.” He calls over his shoulder.

 

As soon as Bucky opens the door in only a towel, come smeared on his stomach and a visible bulge threatening to pull the towel open, the wide-eyed employee hightails it back to the elevator without uttering so much as a single word. Bucky smirks, humming a pleasant tune as he carried the bags back into the living room.

 

“Here we go, Stevie. Gotta replace those calories you just burned.” He takes out one of the containers and pulls Steve onto his lap. “Open wide.” Bucky holds a bite of pineapple to Steve’s lips, letting the juice drip down onto Steve’s chest. He’ll lick it off later.

 

Steve flushes and looks away as he opens his mouth, tongue curling around Bucky’s fingers when Bucky gently feeds it to him. It’s so intimate, almost more intimate than sex. Steve wouldn’t be able to let Bucky do it normally, would feel embarrassed and ashamed of liking it so much, craving it the way he does. But when his head is buzzing pleasantly, worries and stress far from his mind, Steve’ll take any kind of affection Bucky will give him.

 

Steve devours two entire containers of fruit that way, Bucky feeding each bite to him by hand, holding a bottle of Gatorade up to his lips every couple of minutes and pouring some in Steve’s mouth. Steve will need something more solid later, probably several good meals to make up for what he didn’t eat while Bucky was gone, but it’s enough for the moment.

 

Steve hums contently when Bucky places the empty containers back on the ground, and wraps his arms fully around Steve. Everything fades away except for Bucky’s hands on him, Bucky’s breath on his neck, and the warmth emanating off of him. “Bucky.” He can’t help but say, he’s so grateful to have Bucky back, here in their apartment, touching him. “Bucky.”

 

“I’m right here, Stevie. I’m with you, I’ve got you.” Bucky soothes, searching Steve’s face for signs of distress. “What do you need baby? You need me to do something?”

 

Steve shrugs and curls closer, hiding his face in Bucky’s neck. He doesn’t need something per say, but he’s beginning to feel a familiar itch under his skin when he thinks about the fact he only has this for a few more days. Bucky’s going to leave him again. He’s not sure he can handle two more months of radio silence. His breath catches in his throat, a sob trapped in his chest, just imagining trying to get through it. “M’fine.” He whispers hoarsely. Bucky’s always said he’s a glutton for punishment.

 

Bucky clenches his jaw, trying not to sigh. He flips on the tv and channel surfs for a few minutes, pretending to take Steve at his word. Apparently, he needs to teach Steve a lesson about asking for what he needs. “Would you rather watch Downton Abbey or Chopped?” He asks as he casually slides a hand over Steve’s hip to his ass, just resting it on one of Steve’s cheeks.

 

Bucky doesn’t wait for Steve to answer,  he’s pretty sure Steve wouldn’t have anyway. “Ohhh, I think I’m in the mood for some baseball.” He inches his fingers closer to Steve’s hole. “We can watch those damn traitor Dodgers get their asses kicked.” He says right as he flicks the plug to the highest intensity level. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

 

Steve jolts in Bucky’s arms, unprepared for the sudden onslaught of sensation. “Fuck!” He moans, cock going painfully hard within a few seconds. “Bucky!” He claws at Bucky’s back, digging his fingers into the meat of Bucky’s shoulders as he rolls his hips helplessly, rubbing his face back and forth mindlessly over Bucky’s chest.

 

“Hmm?” Bucky bites the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning, pretends to be completely absorbed in the baseball game. “You say something, Stevie?”

 

“Buck, I can’t- I need-please!”

 

Those are the magic words. “You need something baby?” He glances down at Steve’s flushed face, admires the way he’s squirming with need, before looking away. “Then you need to learn to ask for it. All you have to do is ask, baby doll.”

 

Steve sobs. He can’t think of the right words to express what he needs, his mind blank from pleasure. “Please, Bucky!” He bites at Bucky’s chest, ruts desperately against his belly, tries to silently urge Bucky into doing what he wants.

 

“That doesn’t sound like a question, Stevie.” Bucky says reprovingly. “How am I supposed to know what you want, what you need, if you won’t ask?”

 

Steve draws in a shaky breath. How does Bucky expect him to think with the plug buzzing damn near painfully against his fucking prostate? “Buck, please, I need it. Need you, need more, need to come.” He stutters out, tears of overstimulation leaking from the corners of his eyes. “Please, need you Bucky. Need you to make it better.”

 

Steve yelps when Bucky flips him over, laying him out on the couch on his belly, leaking cock dragging painfully over the coarse couch material. There’s a split second where Bucky’s hands aren’t on him, and Steve whines, tries to get up, but the Bucky is pulling the plug out and pushing inside of Steve, spearing Steve open on his hard cock.

It’s perfect, the stretch bordering on painful, Bucky’s body covering him, keeping him pinned. It’s exactly what Steve needed.

  
Bucky doesn’t tease Steve this time, starting a rough, fast pace that has Steve gasping and moaning with every thrust. “Next time you need something, you remember to say something Stevie. I’ll give you anything you need if you ask for it baby doll.” Bucky punctuates his statement with some particularly hard thrusts. He wants this lesson to stick.

Steve whimpers, nodding eagerly into the couch cushion. “I will, I promise!” He cries out, rocking back into Bucky’s thrusts. “Bucky, I promise!”

 

“You better.” Bucky growls, worming a hand between Steve’s body and couch and wrapping it around Steve’s cock, jerking him off to the same fast past as he’s fucking him. “I can’t stand the thought of you needing something and not asking for it, Stevie.” He drops all his weight onto Steve, completely covering Steve’s back, fucking him with short, hard thrusts.

 

“Don’t ever want you to be unhappy.” He says directly into Steve’s ear, swiping his thumb over the sensitive head of Steve’s dick. “Are you happy right now, baby?”

 

“Yes!” Steve cries, eyes squeezed shut tight as he starts to come, Bucky’s sweet words pulling him over the edge. “God, yes!” His orgasm is ripped out of him, leaving him empty and raw, filled to the brim with Bucky’s love, it’s too much, and just enough. “Love you, Buck!”

 

Bucky bites down on Steve’s shoulder, solidifying his claim. He needs Steve to feel how much Bucky loves him, needs him, needs Steve to know that Bucky would do anything for him. He grunts as Steve clenches down around his cock, too hot and tight for Bucky to do anything but thrust a few more times before spilling inside Steve, crying out his climax into Steve’s shoulder.

 

“I love you, Steve. A day doesn’t go by I don’t think about you, and thank my lucky stars you were dumb enough to love me back.” Bucky murmurs against the shell of Steve’s ear, making Steve huff a laugh. “Love you so goddamn much.”

 

Bucky rolls them onto their sides, holds Steve close to his chest, kisses his temple softly as he catches his breath. He basks in the afterglow, giving Steve a few minutes to compose himself. In a few minutes he’ll sit up and make Steve talk to him, really talk about what happened while Bucky was away. But first, he’ll take a few moments to appreciate how goddamn lucky he is to be here, with Steve, getting to take care of his guy. He’s the luckiest bastard in the world.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There's definitely a part two coming. So subscribe if you're interested in that :D


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